09 Thursday Sep 2004
Written by J. Abram Barneck in Fantasy, Sonnet
When late at night he breaths behind the glass
While hanging from my rafters in the dark
I feel his fading blood; my heart moves fast,
But I am safe from suffering from his mark.
Sometimes I look and watch him writhe in hate
While hypnotizing me with bloodless eyes,
And from my will I let his mind partake
And fill my beating heart with wishful lies.
I ache to offer him what life I have
And feel the ecstasy he emanates;
A feeling I forever more will crave
When from my blood he fast rejuvenates.
The Asylum glass allows me no escape,
Nor is he seen on security’s video tape.
J. Abram Barneck.